


Polaroid

by stormyphoenixx



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Fingering, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a hedonist, Blow Jobs, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Inspired by Art, M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, Nudes, Polaroid, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Smut, just a smidge, send nudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26476297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormyphoenixx/pseuds/stormyphoenixx
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are finally an item, and a picture is all it takes for the angel to finally go bonkers.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 84





	Polaroid

**Author's Note:**

> This little fic of mine is a gift to my friend Martina (go check her NSFW art out on IG: @hu_nude)! I've loved her art since when I was a lil newbie in the fandom, one year ago, and some art of hers inspired me to write this <3  
> Story has been sort of beta'd by myself, wanted it to be a surprise as much as possible.  
> Enjoy 8)
> 
> EDIT: now featuring a picture with @martina_a_duck's artwork that inspired the story, taken by her! Beware, it's highly NSFW.

Many things have changed, one way or another, following Not-pocalypse: the world is – more or less – back to what it was before shit went down, and a certain angel and a certain demon are free from their head offices, hence free to love each other in the open, once they talked about it during the longest night of their lives, the one between the failed apocalypse and their trials.

Yet, some things still won’t change. 

“I know that change is often good, my dear,” Aziraphale answers, between forkfuls of dessert, sitting with Crowley in a discrete booth of the new restaurant they’ve tried together, “but my idiosyncrasy for technology is quite still here, failed apocalypse and all.” 

“You’ve managed to change many things about yourself in six thousand years, angel,” Crowley says back, nursing a black coffee. “This would just be another thing. C'mon, it’s not that hard. Having a mobile phone would really improve your life, or at least make it easier to reach you when you're not near your landline phone. Reaching out for each other in case of need requires speed and efficiency.” 

“Still, I’m not convinced about getting one of these modern contraptions I know nothing about,” Aziraphale replies quite primly, scooping up another bite of cake. 

“You know what else these ‘contraptions’ can do?” the demon leans closer. “You can send and receive pictures or videos.” He proceeds to steal the bite directly from Aziraphale’s fork, tongue slightly poking out to clean away a few drops of cream, and the angel's mouth goes dry. “I could send you nudes for when you’re alone,” Crowley whispers, and Aziraphale's cheeks quickly turn red, half shocked by the audacity, half turned on by the thought. 

“Fiend!” he manages to say, half choking. 

“Yup, foul fiend, me. It’s my job, after all.” 

About one day later, Aziraphale snaps out of focus when he hears a sudden _pop_ and a little square of paper appears out of nowhere, floating down on the bookshop's backroom's desk and falling face first. He puts the book down with a proper bookmark, then carefully retrieves the mysterious object and almost drops it again once he’s given it a careful look. 

It’s a Polaroid picture, its subject a hard cock on display, undeniably Crowley's as the base is shadowed by soft red curls. Such erotic sight is framed by Crowley's flat belly, on which the ends of his gray scarf tie lie, and open, wiry legs. In the background, soft black bedsheets in stark contrast with the demon's skin and hair colour. Something is scribbled on the white part of the Polaroid: “With all my love, Crowley”. 

By the time Aziraphale has taken in all of the details, blood has definitely rushed all the way to the south and his cock is twitching, clearly interested. His mouth feels parched and his mind is empty besides his burning desire. 

He loves Crowley fiercely, he still hasn’t wrapped his mind around the idea that he can now love him without hiding, and suddenly he’s desperate for a taste of him. 

A decision is made: the angel snaps his fingers and disappears from his bookshop. 

About five minutes have passed since when Crowley has snapped his fingers to send Aziraphale the picture he took and his cock is still rock hard, in spite of the anxious thoughts about the possible feedback. The camera lies on the floor, discarded. 

This is not the first time he gets an erection by thinking about the angel; he used to reminisce moments and furtive touches, now he recalls to mind their declarations of love and the kisses they've shared so far and that’s enough to make his blood boil. The angel and he are treading a new path together and they’re still hesitant and tentative about the sexual matter, so nothing noticeable has happened yet, not even that fateful night in which they confessed to each other. 

Minutes tick and go by, yet nothing has happened and the boner is still calling for attention, so Crowley sets out to take some of the edge off. He gasps as soon as he wraps his hand around his cock, then he squeezes slightly and his hips move by their own volition. Lost in the sensation, he misses the vibrations in the air, but not the figure of Aziraphale appearing in front of him and quite startling him for a second. He probably ought to be ashamed of having been caught in his state, but he finds out he doesn’t care, so he stares at Aziraphale from his splayed position on the bed, legs open wide, body languid on the black sheets, his throbbing erection in his right hand and his golden eyes full of bone-deep need. 

Aziraphale stares back at the demon as if presented with the finest dessert and instinctively licks his lips, then he steps forward. 

“Such a pretty picture you make, my dear,” he says, voice low and with the slightest hint of shaking. “Better in the flesh than in a Polaroid picture.” 

“You liked it, then?” Crowley tries to be suave but he’s finely trembling. 

“Very much, but now there’s something else I'd like even more.” Aziraphale sheds his coat and waistcoat and rolls his sleeves up, then he climbs on the bed and the sight makes the demon bite his own lip so hard he almost draws blood. 

“Keep going, my love,” Aziraphale whispers, leaning towards his face. “Touch yourself slowly, as slow as you can, and let me have a taste of you.” 

Crowley moans at the words, low and needy, crushing his mouth against the angel's and pulling his head down with his free hand. More sounds are made as his tongue explores Aziraphale's mouth but gets caught and sucked greedily, just as one of the angel's hands finds his way in his short, red hair, sending thrills through the scalp. He remembers what he’s supposed to do, so he begins moving his hand again at a torturous and languid pace. 

Aziraphale breaks the kiss to mark Crowley’s neck with a discreet love bite that makes him gasp, goes down to suckle on Crowley's already peaked nipples and the demon throws his head back, keening. He notices the little pool of translucent precum on Crowley’s belly and begins licking him clean, dipping the tip of his tongue into his belly button to retrieve some drops of the fluid, causing his hips to buck helplessly into the air. 

“Fuck, please, I need your mouth on me,” Crowley whisper-moans, and his voice breaks as the angel's tongue slides all around the head of his cock and a hand goes to cup his bollocks gently. 

“Do you want me to suck you off, my dear?” the angel asks, face innocent, eyes darkened with desire and darting between Crowley’s face and Crowley’s moving hand. “Do you want me to make you come?” 

“Fuck, yes, please…” 

Crowley’s breathy plea makes Aziraphale’s cock pulse behind the clothes, but Aziraphale wills himself to focus single-mindedly on pleasuring his demon. He gently swats Crowley’s hand away, then sinks down on Crowley’s shaft with a swift move and groans, enjoying the mildly salty flavour and velvety texture of skin, taking his sweet time to taste him rather than rush him to the climax. The demon arches his back and barely holds back a sinful moan, his hand reaching for the angel’s blond head and carding through his curls. 

“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” Aziraphale breathes in a short pause, before going down again, and a skilful stroke of tongue on the underside of his cock makes Crowley half-shout, head thrown back against the pillows. As the suction gets tighter but not yet faster, Aziraphale tugs at Crowley’s legs, silently asking him to give him more space, and the demon complies, opening them and drawing them back a bit. With just a thought, his fingers are slick with lube, and Aziraphale brings them up to tease Crowley’s tight opening, already wet from the fact that he’s literally drooling as he sucks him off, saliva dripping down on his balls and the cleft of his butt cheeks. 

“Shit, angel, fuck me,” Crowley’s voice is broken and pleading and his thighs begin to shake as the angel eases one finger into his hole, soon joined by a second one, moving, massaging all around. “Angel!” he cries out when the fingers go straight to his sweet spot, causing him to jolt and accidentally shove his cock further down Aziraphale’s throat, but Aziraphale is too pleased with himself to really mind it, plus he’s just decided his human body doesn’t need a gag reflex. The trembling of Crowley’s legs increases, the flush on his face and chest deepens, his pleas are wordless by now and they suddenly become low and deep before going up in a crescendo, and Aziraphale keeps going at it, faster and eager. 

“Azira- _oh!_ ” Crowley finally comes with a scream, overwhelmed by the pleasure and the love, and the angel drinks him down, slowing down the movements of his fingers. Only when Crowley’s blissed out and wrung of the last drop, he withdraws both his mouth and hand, and proceeds to kiss his quivering hole, then his bollocks and the tip of his softening cock. After this, Aziraphale gets rid of his clothes with a snap and lies with his head on Crowley’s trembling stomach, reaching out for the demon’s hands to intertwine fingers. 

“If a picture is enough to get me this, I’ll send you hundreds of nudes everyday” Crowley jokes, voice still weak and rapt in the afterglow. 

“There’s no actual need for excuses for getting dirty,” Aziraphale says, “since I am free to make love to you anytime now, but if you feel like sending me other lewd pictures, I’ll certainly appreciate them. I’ll even show you my appreciation in person. I love you,” he adds, pressing a sweet kiss on Crowley’s belly. 

The demon chuckles, basking in the affection. “Love you too, you lovely bastard.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks in advance for reading and eventual feedback! Come find me on Tumblr at @stormyphoenix if you're amenable to interaction


End file.
